Tales Of Arabia

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1. Tales in the beginning Tales in the beginning didn’t begin in the telling, They would have started no doubt, but not without A concrete bearing, a causal opening and a beckoning Ending (at least tacitly implied), otherwise devout Listeners would have opted out. For a tale to begin with no known point of origin, With no sequencing and no […]...
2. The Arabian Shawl “It is cold outside, you will need a coat What! this old Arabian shawl! Bind it about your head and throat, These steps… it is dark… my hand… you Might fall.” What has happened? What strange, sweet charm Lingers about the Arabian shawl… Do not tremble so! There can be no harm In just remembering […]...
3. Arabia Far are the shades of Arabia, Where the Princes ride at noon, ‘Mid the verdurous vales and thickets, Under the ghost of the moon; And so dark is that vaulted purple Flowers in the forest rise And toss into blossom ‘gainst the phantom stars Pale in the noonday skies. Sweet is the music of Arabia […]...
4. Poseidonians The Poseidonians forgot the Greek language After so many centuries of mingling With Tyrrhenians, Latins, and other foreigners. The only thing surviving from their ancestors Was a Greek festival, with beautiful rites, With lyres and flutes, contests and wreaths. And it was their habit toward the festival’s end To tell each other about their ancient […]...
5. To Lucy, Countess of Bedford, with John Donne's Satires Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are Life of the Muses’ day, their morning star! If works, not th’ author’s, their own grace should look, Whose poems would not wish to be your book? But these, desir’d by you, the maker’s ends Crown with their own. Rare poems ask rare friends. Yet satires, since […]...
6. Sonnet 03 – Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart! Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart! Unlike our uses and our destinies. Our ministering two angels look surprise On one another, as they strike athwart Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art A guest for queens to social pageantries, With gages from a hundred brighter eyes Than tears even can make mine, to […]...
7. Base of all Metaphysics, The AND now, gentlemen, A word I give to remain in your memories and minds, As base, and finale too, for all metaphysics. (So, to the students, the old professor, At the close of his crowded course.) Having studied the new and antique, the Greek and Germanic systems, Kant having studied and stated-Fichte and Schelling and […]...
8. Benlomond Hadst thou a genius on thy peak, What tales, white-headed Ben, Could’st thou of ancient ages speak, That mock th’ historian’s pen! Thy long duration makes our livea Seem but so many hours; And likens, to the bees’ frail hives, Our most stupendous towers. Temples and towers thou seest begun, New creeds, new conquerers sway; […]...
9. Elizabeth Elizabeth, it surely is most fit [Logic and common usage so commanding] In thy own book that first thy name be writ, Zeno and other sages notwithstanding; And I have other reasons for so doing Besides my innate love of contradiction; Each poet – if a poet – in pursuing The muses thro’ their bowers […]...
10. Sonnet V: O! How Can Love O! How can LOVE exulting Reason queil! How fades each nobler passion from his gaze! E’en Fame, that cherishes the Poet’s lays, That fame, ill-fated Sappho lov’d so well. Lost is the wretch, who in his fatal spell Wastes the short Summer of delicious days, And from the tranquil path of wisdom strays, In passion’s […]...
11. Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals AGES and ages, returning at intervals, Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden, the West, the great cities calling, Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins....
12. 154. Lines Inscribed under Fergusson's Portrait CURSE on ungrateful man, that can be pleased, And yet can starve the author of the pleasure. O thou, my elder brother in misfortune, By far my elder brother in the Muses, With tears I pity thy unhappy fate! Why is the Bard unpitied by the world, Yet has so keen a relish of its […]...
13. Old Times Friend of my youth, let us talk of old times; Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only Christmas chimes, And “Summer” wreaths of flowers. Life has grown old, and cold, my friend, And the winter now, means death. And summer blossoms speak all too plain Of the dear, dead forms beneath. But […]...
14. Those Images What if I bade you leave The cavern of the mind? There’s better exercise In the sunlight and wind. I never bade you go To Moscow or to Rome. Renounce that drudgery, Call the Muses home. Seek those images That constitute the wild, The lion and the virgin, The harlot and the child. Find in […]...
15. By The Sea Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its moan, It frets against the boundary shore; All earth’s full rivers cannot fill The sea, that drinking thirsteth still. Sheer miracles of loveliness Lie hid in its unlooked-on bed: Anemones, salt, passionless, Blow flower-like; just enough alive To blow and multiply and […]...
16. O World, be Nobler O WORLD, be nobler, for her sake! If she but knew thee what thou art, What wrongs are borne, what deeds are done In thee, beneath thy daily sun, Know’st thou not that her tender heart For pain and very shame would break? O World, be nobler, for her sake!...
17. Ah, that Murphy girl Let’s talk about the weather then, Would that help you take your ease? Gossip is so rare from you The noise of falling leaves is louder than Your breathing; if breathing is whatever is Sustaining you. – Weather? Not at any cost, As old as I might seem I’m not yet dead, I haven’t lost […]...
18. On An Italian Shore Kimos, son of Menedoros, a young Greek-Italian, Devotes his life to amusing himself, Like most young men in Greater Greece Brought up in the lap of luxury. But today, in spite of his nature, He is preoccupied, dejected. Near the shore He watched, deeply distressed, as they unload Ships with booty taken from the Peloponnese. […]...
19. City of Orgies CITY of orgies, walks and joys! City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make you illustrious, Not the pageants of you-not your shifting tableaux, your spectacles, repay me; Not the interminable rows of your houses-nor the ships at the wharves, Nor the processions in the streets, nor the […]...
20. Anthem The birds they sang At the break of day Start again I heard them say Don’t dwell on what Has passed away Or what is yet to be. Ah the wars they will Be fought again The holy dove She will be caught again Bought and sold And bought again The dove is never free. […]...
21. THE CONSECRATED SPOT WHEN in the dance of the Nymphs, in the moonlight so holy assembled, Mingle the Graces, down from Olympus in secret descending, Here doth the minstrel hide, and list to their numbers enthralling, Here doth he watch their silent dances’ mysterious measure. All that is glorious in Heaven, and all that the earth in her […]...
22. Just wasn't right You lift the lid in awe, a seat and lid Upon an inside stall where you can go, Quite unlike the outside loo at home, But oh the smell, the hellish smell So rank and raw – you see some objects In there clearly, disbelieving things you Really shouldn’t see; it is a step too […]...
23. 320. Lines to Sir John Whitefoord, Bart THOU, who thy honour as thy God rever’st, Who, save thy mind’s reproach, nought earthly fear’st, To thee this votive offering I impart, The tearful tribute of a broken heart. The Friend thou valued’st, I, the Patron lov’d; His worth, his honour, all the world approved: We’ll mourn till we too go as he has […]...
24. Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull Start not-nor deem my spirit fled: In me behold the only skull From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaffed like thee; I died: let earth my bones resign: Fill up-thou canst not injure me; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the […]...
25. The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love “Trust love even if it brings sorrow. Do not close up your heart.” “Ah no, my friend, your words are Dark, I cannot understand them.” “Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop, While it laughs it dies. But sorrow is Strong and abiding. Let sorrowful Love wake in your eyes.” “Ah no, my friend, your words […]...
26. Dream Song 48: He yelled at me in Greek He yelled at me in Greek, My God! —It’s not his language And I’m no good at—his Aramaic, Was—I am a monoglot of English (American version) and, say pieces from A baker’s dozen others: where’s the bread? But rising in the Second Gospel, pal: The seed goes down, god dies, A rising happens, Some crust, […]...
27. Dirge of the Three Queens URNS and odours bring away! Vapours, sighs, darken the day! Our dole more deadly looks than dying; Balms and gums and heavy cheers, Sacred vials fill’d with tears, And clamours through the wild air flying! Come, all sad and solemn shows, That are quick-eyed Pleasure’s foes! We convent naught else but woes....
28. One Bumper at Parting One bumper at parting! though many Have circled the board since we met, The fullest, the saddest of any Remains to be crown’d by us yet. The sweetness that pleasure hath in it Is always so slow to come forth, That seldom, alas, till the minute It dies, do we know half its worth. But […]...
29. We are the time. We are the famous We are the time. We are the famous Metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure. We are the water, not the hard diamond, The one that is lost, not the one that stands still. We are the river and we are that greek That looks himself into the river. His reflection Changes into the waters of the […]...
30. Why Should A Foolish Marriage Vow Why should a foolish marriage vow, Which long ago was made, Oblige us to each other now When passion is decay’d? We lov’d, and we lov’d, as long as we could, Till our love was lov’d out in us both: But our marriage is dead, when the pleasure is fled: ‘Twas pleasure first made it […]...
31. In Memory of Maggie A pussy-cat who was the household pet for seventeen years. Naught but a little cat, you say; Yet we remember her, A creature loving, loyal, kind, With merry, mellow purr; The faithful friend of many years, Shall we not give her meed of tears? Sleek-suited in her velvet coat, White-breasted and bright-eyed, Feeling when she […]...
32. After the Battle Night closed around the conqueror’s way, And lightnings show’d the distant hill, Where those who lost that dreadful day Stood few and faint, but fearless still. The soldier’s hope, the patriot’s zeal, For ever dimm’d, for ever crost Oh! who shall say what heroes feel, When all but life and honour’s lost? The last sad […]...
33. Sun of the Sleepless! Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star! Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far, That show’st the darkness thou canst not dispel, How like art thou to joy remember’d well! So gleams the past, the light of other days, Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays; A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold, Distinct but distant […]...
34. A Fit of Rhyme against Rhyme Rhyme, the rack of finest wits, That expresseth but by fits True conceit, Spoiling senses of their treasure, Cozening judgment with a measure, But false weight; Wresting words from their true calling, Propping verse for fear of falling To the ground; Jointing syllabes, drowning letters, Fast’ning vowels as with fetters They were bound! Soon as […]...
35. Colin Instructed Young Colin was as stout a boy As ever gave a maiden joy; But long in vain he told his tale To black-eyed Biddy of the Dale. Ah why, the whining shepherd cried, Am I alone your smiles denied? I only tell in vain my tale To black-eyed Biddy of the Dale. True Colin, said […]...
36. THE GIFT We were three weeks Into term, Sheila, When you came Through the classroom door; Forty-four children Bent over books, Copying Roethke’s ‘The Lost Son’. You wrote your First poem on the ‘Moses’ Of Michelangelo. Words cut like stone. I taught you Greek But your painting of ‘The Essence of the Rose’ Was pure Platonic form. […]...
37. Sonnet XXXIV: Charm'd by Thy Suffrage Charm’d by thy suffrage, shall I yet aspire (All inauspicious as my fate appears, By troubles darken’d, that encrease with years,) To guide the crayon, or to touch the lyre? Ah me! – the sister Muses still require A spirit free from all intrusive fears, Nor will they deign to wipe away the tears Of […]...
38. Psalm 84 part 1 The pleasure of public worship. How pleasant, how divinely fair, O Lord of hosts, thy dwellings are! With long desire my spirit faints To meet th’ assemblies of thy saints. My flesh would rest in thine abode, My panting heart cries out for God; My God! my King! why should I be So far from […]...
39. As the Ruin Falls All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you. I never had a selfless thought since I was born. I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through: I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn. Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek, I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin: I […]...
40. Sonnet VI: Some Lovers Speak Some lovers speak when they their Muses entertain, Of hopes begot by fear, of wot not what desires: Of force of heav’nly beams, infusing hellish pain: Of living deaths, dear wounds, fair storms, and freezing fires. Some one his song in Jove, and Jove’s strange tales attires, Broidered with bulls and swans, powdered with golden […]...